A Better World
by masamunable
Summary: Kai carries out Nariko's last request, and waits patiently for their better world . . . post game, one shot.


The wilderness is harsh. Kai presses on through forests and across mountains, barren deserts and icey peaks, as far as she can go and as far from civilisation as exists. Her bowgun hangs from her shoulder, and the sword, that cursed thing, is slung around her waste; wrapped in cloth inscribed with the characters of binding, of restraint. It is heavy, like her duty, but she bears it well.

There was a time when she lived like this before; when the world had taken everything from her and left her in it's darkest reaches. She had lived like an animal in every sense; had eaten whatever was to hand, had spoken to no-one for years. It had nearly broken her.

Then there was Nariko.

* * *

This land seems untameable; grey brown with sparse foliage. Winter is coming, and the leaves are long gone- it will not be long before the rivers freeze, and she will have to take some sort of shelter through the worst of it. There are wolves in this country; she can hear them howling at night. She does not fear them; sleeping in trees, taking pot-shots at them if they come too close. At least where there are wolves there are usually other, more digestable animals to be found as well. Kai is glad for this; as strong as she is now, the idea of eating cockroaches again makes her face curl in childish disgust. She remembers when Nariko had first taken her back to her Clan and fed her. She had watched the feral child with sympathetic bemusement as she devoured bowl after bowl of gruel like it was the very food of the gods themselves. To Kai it might have been. Nariko had certainly seemed like a goddess to her.

It is better when she can sleep on the ground. Then she can unroll the blankets and light a fire, and sleep properly. Kai likes these nights, for they are filled with dreams; of what was, of what will certainly be again. Watching Nariko run through sword drills, blade gleaming in the sun as her legs and arms whirl gracefully; her long hair streaming like the red ribbons Kai's people had danced with at festivals. How afterwards she would play with her, indulging whatever whim traipsed through Kai's disjointed mind, no matter how ridiculous. Kai remembers the long gold grass of those summers and the happiest times of her life as sparks from the fire circle into the heavens and disappear.

There was an instant bond between them. Nariko, the daughter of the chief and yet a pariah among her own people simply for the circumstances of her birth; Kai, the last survivor of a clan slaughtered gleefully for the glorification of a mad tyrant. They took refuge in each other- abandoned by their own worlds, they form a new one together. Kai sees the anger in Nariko, the sadness and the hurt, and does what she can to alleviate it, by capering madly for Nariko's amusement, by holding the stoic girl's hand as she sits on the bank of their grey river, when her father's coldness is too much. Nariko would lean her head on Kai's shoulder and wonder aloud what she did before she found her wild friend.

* * *

Kai finds another cold grey river here. She goes fishing, tying string to the end of her arrows and firing them square through the neck of three good salmon- her eyesight and aim only getting better with time. She remembers with a smile Nariko's frustration, trying to learn how to guide the arrow-- they had moved too fast for her to keep up with them, and frankly she couldn't have hoped for a less focused teacher to explain it. Still, Nariko was gifted in the art of war, and when she set her mind to something she accomplished it, more or less. She had first achieved success skipping stones. Kai remembered the joy she felt as the stone her friend threw curved in it's arc, bouncing right back to she shore at her feet. She had bounded into Nariko's strong arms, as the delighted warrior span her around and around till they fell dizzily onto the gravel. They had lain facing each other, silly grins on their faces. Nariko's golden eyes were heavy lidded, and Kai's heart had been in her throat.

These were things they didn't talk about. Nariko was already an abomination in the eyes of her people and her father, and Kai was a tagalong, an intruder. To bring more bile to bear on themselves would have been deeply foolish. But Kai learned that words didn't matter so much as touch, as hands, teeth and tongue. There was so much she said to Nariko, and Nariko to her, in the darkness of night, at the edge of the nomad town. Now that her mind is her own again, she would say more. But that will have to wait.

She will spend the rest of her life in this barren place, as the sword and she pass out of living memory; as the fires of greed and rage that have always surrounded it are smothered by the sands of time. Sometimes she thinks the sword knows this, that it is pleading with her to stop, turn around. To take it by the handle and exact vengeance on . . . whom exactly, Kai isn't sure. But it is the word of the sword against Nariko's last request. It is fighting a losing battle and it knows it, and in time it grows quiet, still.

Alone in the cold desert, Kai waits patiently. For her duty to be done, for relief from this wasteland. For the day when she can finally stop dreaming and go home to the place she was always meant to be, and see her friend, her everything, dance and weave once more in the long grass. She knows that Nariko dreams of her too, and is waiting for her.

In a better world than this.

* * *

Sniff. Alright, this was written quickly and wasn't beta'd (or even read through, lol) so it's prooobably not all that coherent. Still, I can't seem to find any other Kai/Nariko fics in The Pit; so it really had to be done! For anyone who raised an eyebrow at Kai and Nariko's 'sisterly' affection.


End file.
